Moby Dick's Tales: The Question
by Freefan1412
Summary: Slight AU. They had know it would have to be dealt with one day. Point being that the One Day had not been supposed to come anytime soon. Or ever, really. Especially not because of that.


The white ship left the harbor, all members on board (this time) and sails full of comfortable breezes.

Ace, Sabo, Luffy and Thatch stood on the rear deck, leaning lazily against the railing, counting.

Counting the people left behind yelling cursing fuming (and probably with a good number of snails to inform HQ yet again).

"Thirty two?"

"Right you are."

"Ya'd think we offended 'em or somethin'."

"For some strange reason it really does look like it," commented Thatch, chewing on a most tasty piece of meat that was a souvenir. "But, well… Who cares? With a bit more practice, though, you'll break Namur's record."

Sabo grinned, adjusting his hat. "Practice makes Masters."

"I don't think there has ever been a 'Master' in this particular field." Because no, really, there hadn't. Thatch hadn't even thought about turning that hobby (or was it habit?) into a 'field of…. expertise'. (It has already been turned into an art form, though.)

"We would have been the best anyway."

Thatch snorted, counting once more with a looking glass to make sure. (Cheating was not wanted for once.) "I'm just as normal as you two and I get sick just watching sometimes. How do you do it when your stomach is not made of rubber? Or more importantly, are you ready for dinner?"

Three grumbling stomachs were his answer. As were three wide, identical grins.

* * *

It was chaos.

_Chaos_.

As always. _Always_.

It needed to be stressed.

Plates were flying through the air, along with left over bones, uneatable greeneries that were all (for some reason) used to play the usual evening game of who-gets-hit-most. It was a long standing tradition. Food was also airborne, mostly (because every last one of the rowdy bunch loved eating; even the ladies) to play catch (it was the second usual evening game, only when said _catch_, it was meant with the mouth). As was the occasional fork or knife in retaliation to a dirty (fair and clever) move.

It all stopped dead. Movements frozen, grudges and scores forgotten.

Just by one question.

As one, a few hundred pirates' eyes turned. The old, the young, the male, the female, the dumb, the smart, the lucky, the calculating; _everyone_.

To second division commander Portgas D. Ace, to second division's second commander Sabo, to fourth division commander Thatch. In other words to Monkey D. Luffy.

All four of them had their mouths full, but three quarters of said four were just as frozen as the rest.

"'ts s'?" Asked Thatch (the picture of perfectly polite confusion, because surely he had heard _wrong_), and Luffy, with years of practice, swallowed a big lump down his rubber throat before repeating the question.

"What's sex?"

The reaction was instantaneous.

It was _chaos_.

The state before? That wasn't chaos. It was ordered disorder. This though…

Ace (lucky him) was coughing, before promptly spitting his food in Sabo's face. Sabo (not so lucky) had been mid-swallow and was now choking for air. Thatch was _frozen_ now.

The rest… Whitebeard was laughing. Hadn't he told them it'd come back to bite them in the ass? The rest, though…

Izo and Jozu were leaving (fleeing) the room, only the beginning of panicking few (a great number wanted to, but were either to morbidly fascinated and just forgot or were too afraid to move). The most, though wanted to crawl for cover under the tables. But the tables weren't nearly big enough. So they scrambled through the space, like panicked chicken, trying to still squeeze under _there_ and _here _and scoot _over_.

(Marco had left to get a camera.)

A good five seconds had passed and Ace finally found air to start cursing. First and foremost.

The pirates not in hiding just slacked where they stood, resigned to their fate. For everything else it was too late now.

"Why the sudden… interest?" Ace managed to croak out, sounding like every word was a battle to death.

Sabo was still choking, turning red now.

Thatch was only just remembering that breathing was very important.

"There was a frizzy-beard in town and asked if I wanted to do this sex thingy with him," Luffy said, all sweetly and naïve, and the world had up and died and the apocalypse was happening in revers now, (Ace caught a too good look of hell; Sabo was going to hell if he didn't get air soon, but it was hard focusing on something unimportant as air, when your brother was telling you _this;_ Thatch found his brain better _stay_ frozen a bit longer, because … just ….No ….Way).

"But I wanted to eat more."

A _deathly_ beat of _stillness_.

Everyone _stared_. Everyone held their breath. Everyone saw (before their very eyes) the end of the world approaching _fast (_it looked like fire and some more fire and hell and old-fashioned iron rods and blood and Ace and Sabo).

"Goddamn Fuck!" Ace was smoking, literally, (and was the bench on fire?). Everything else about him was _beyond_ description (furious or lethal did _not_ do him justice). "Around! Ship around! Now! NOW! _NOW!_"

One frightened navigator almost knocked himself out by jerking in a very terrified way when Ace's eyes flashed over him. Then he scrambled like the devil himself was on his heels.

"What the hell are you doing Sabo!" Ace demanded (and yes, the bench was ash now), hitting the blond man on the back, but remaining utterly ignorant to the fact that he had probably just saved Sabo's life, because that was a half chewed chicken flying through the air and said blond's color turned quickly from dying purple to enraged red. "We have a pervert to fucking _KILL_."

Ace stomped out, looking for (as the unified vision had prophesized) the old probably-rusty-by-now iron rods (good, that'll hurt more). Sabo followed, hitting the walls on his way and leaving trails of violence in his wake.

The ground tilted. The ship was doing the requested (demanded, threatened) U-turn back to harbor.

Luffy emptied another plate, blinking after them. "What's going on?"

Marco stormed back in, camera in hand and ready for use.

He stared. He stared at the pirates hiding under the tables (terrified, passed out or otherwise incapable of speaking), at Oyaji drinking (trying very hard to hid his laugh behind it), at Thatch hitting his head on the table repeatedly with much force and finally at Luffy who was devouring the leftovers.

"What did I miss?"

Oyaji lost his fight with his amusement, spitting out his precious sake. A good number of pirates fainted from aftershock. The Commanders climbed out from under their fragile wood covers.

"Well?"

* * *

This is part of my Moby Dick's Tales series, as always with slight AU setting.

I have to thank Otaku-TACO who sent me this wonderful prompt. I had much fun writing this out and the companion piece Moby Dick's Tales: Not Birds and Bees and is set about two year after it.

Please leave a comment.


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